


The Rest

by asocialconstruct



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, smooches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:18:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain and Abel break up, Abel and Encke have a little romance because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Cain**

Abel said it one morning when they should have been fucking, but he’d been too pissy to be talked into it, and now Cain knew why.

“We’re done,” Abel said finally, after pussyfooting around it forever.  “I’m not doing this any more.  You’ve got your— _friend_ —Deimos—and this isn’t very professional anyway.”

Cain glared up at him, sick of this fight.  “The fuck do you mean _we’re done_ , you’re still my fucking navigator—“

“And that’s _all_ ,” Abel said, crossing his arms over his chest as Cain stood.  “ _Just_ navigator and _just_ fighter, _just_ work.  None of the—the rest of it.”

Cain smiled slowly, walking Abel back against the wall, putting a hand next to Abel’s head and leaning into him but not touching, just looking him up and down and making Abel tip his face up to glare at him, like when they kissed.  “The _rest_ , huh?”

“Yeah,” Abel said, blushing and watching Cain’s mouth like when he wanted to get fucked.

“We’ll see how long that lasts, princess.  You’ll be begging for it again in no time, then we’ll see if you get the _rest_.”  Cain laughed at Abel’s deep blush and left to fuck Deimos; Abel was too much of a slut for it to really last.  He’d make it a couple days, maybe a couple weeks even, but Cain had Deimos to fuck in the mean time until Abel realized what he wanted.  And then Cain would make him beg for it, _really_ beg for it.

* * *

**Encke**

“Reliant broke up today,” Keeler said nonchalantly that night, doing his crosswords on the bottom bunk after dinner.

“Who’d you transfer them to?” Encke asked.  Not that it really mattered unless Reliant needed a disciplinary report, which it didn’t sound like.

“They didn’t break up as a _team_ , they broke up as an _item_ ,” Keeler said, giving him a little sideways smile.

“So?” Encke asked, even though he knew exactly why Keeler had mentioned it now.

Keeler shrugged, flicking away his crossword puzzle to bring up mail and baby pictures from his wife.  “Just thought you’d be interested.”

* * *

**Encke**

Encke made a point of avoiding him, until Keeler pointed it out, and then Encke made even more of a point to avoid him.  Reliant’s navigator was cute, as cute as his fighter was a pain in the ass, both of them arguing on the wing of their ship for days after the break up about everything except what they were really arguing about, and Encke wasn’t about to be a rebound fuck, as much as just the thought of the cute little blond made his cock stand up and take notice.    Instead he went over there and told Reliant to knock it off, because they were distracting everyone else, and not because he wanted an excuse to get a better look at the navigator with his sleeves rolled up, arms and nose smudged with grease.  Looking didn’t mean anything, and Encke went back to avoiding him.

But Keeler wasn’t having it, married and determined to get everybody else married off too, even if Encke protested that it wasn’t the time for it, not the time for distractions, or entanglements, or fraternization, or complications.  Keeler tried anyway, finding excuses to send Encke on “errands” to the navigation labs, trying to arrange a run-in with Abel, and not being very subtle about it.

Keeler never had been subtle about much, until Encke thought he’d done so well avoiding Keeler’s machinations that he walked right into one.

* * *

**Abel**

“Oh damn,” Keeler said, frowning down at his tablet.  “Abel, could you be a darling and cover for me?  Cook wants a meeting and I told Encke we’d go over the new simulation.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I don’t have time to walk down with you, just tell him I sent you.  You’d be running through it tomorrow anyway, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Um—no, no sir, of course I don’t mind, but—“

“Wonderful.  Don’t worry about taking notes on the sim, Abel, Encke’ll tell me about it later, I have to run.  He should be waiting for you in lab three by now.”

And somehow Abel found himself standing outside the lab wondering how it had happened.

The lieutenant looked up at him from where he leaned against the wall, looking up for Keeler and frowning when Abel wasn’t him.

“What are you doing here, Reliant?” Encke snapped, and Abel regretted the one step he’d taken into the room.

“I—um.  Keeler had a meeting come up, he said to—“

Encke laughed at that, short and not pleased at all.  “Of course he did.  And he sent you.”

“Yessir,” Abel said, even though it wasn’t a question, because he couldn’t think of what else to say with Encke walking towards him suddenly, taller this close than he looked across the mess, where Abel had never really had to think about him before, except to wonder if he was as good a kisser as he looked.

“Well, let’s do it, then,” Encke said, waving Abel over to the dark simulator.

“Isn’t it—don’t we have to turn it on, sir—“ Abel asked.  And glanced back at the dark simulator as Encke put a hand on his shoulder and lead him to another room, with rows of unfamiliar simulators.

“Don’t bother with the _sir_ , Abel, just Encke is fine,” Encke said, leading Abel.  He was warm and solid as he moved in the half dark, leaving Abel to switch on one of the simulators and coming back to put a hand on his shoulder as it warmed up.  His hand was unfamiliar, heavy and broad and Abel’s heart beat a little faster, not sure how he was supposed to act with an unfamiliar fighter, and a lieutenant, and a good-looking, intimidating one.

He didn’t have to figure it out, though, Encke walking him into the warm light of the simulator, like the kind the fighters used for hand-to-hand, except that this one started to shimmer with points of light resolving into a hallway, just an empty hallway somewhere on the ship like it was a doorway and not a computer.

And when Abel practically jumped into his arms when the simulation really started, Encke caught him and shot the pixelated Colteron in one smooth motion.  Abel somehow managed to pry his hands off Encke’s uniform, unbearably grateful that when Encke glanced down at him, it was with a little smile and not a laugh.  And even more grateful when Encke didn’t shove him away, gathering him closer instead, showing him how to hold the simulator’s fake gun, how to aim, how to shoot, standing behind him and rearranging his stance.  

 _Cross-training, in case there’s a ground assault,_ Encke said, pretending not to notice the way Abel stumbled back into him any time the simulator changed, shifting views, and Abel wondered if this was how the fighters always felt out in the ship, no control over the motion, no control over anything except by shooting it.

“Didn’t your fighter ever show you how to shoot?” Encke said after, putting everything away.

Abel swallowed hard, not interested in thinking about Cain with Encke so close, smelling warm and clean and different, so tall Abel had to look up at him.  “Um.  No sir,” Abel stammered, tripping over thinking about Cain and Encke at the same time, finally deciding to push Cain away.  “He—um.  Said I was too much of a pansy to learn, so he wasn’t going to bother,” Abel said, embarrassed to admit it.

Encke frowned at that, leaning back against the side of the simulator, and Abel tried not to get distracted by his long legs, uniform tucked neatly into his boots and his undershirt, drawn tight across his flat belly, just visible where his jacket hung open.  Abel tried even harder to not think about that just a few minutes ago he’d had his ass pressed back against a superior officer, dragging his eyes back up to Encke’s face when he spoke.  “You don’t deserve to have someone treat you like that.  You want me to have a word with him?”

“Oh,” Abel said as Encke pushed himself standing.  “Oh—no sir, it’s alright, we sorted it out, it’s fine sir—“

“Abel,” Encke said, taking a step toward him and brushing hair out of his eyes.

“Yessir?”  He was so tall, standing close like that, and Abel concentrated on the smooth line of his throat to avoid looking at his mouth.

“I already told you you don’t have to worry about the _sir yes sir_ , it’s just us.”

“Oh.  Oh, yes sir,” Abel said, blushing as Encke stepped even closer, a boot between Abel’s feet, pinning him against the wall.

“Abel,” Encke said quietly, putting a hand behind Abel’s head, threading gloved fingers through his hair and leaning down.

“Yessir?”

“You’re blushing,” Encke said, and his mouth was warm and soft against Abel’s, slow and certain.

* * *

**Abel**

It got around by the second day, Phobos making sure that everyone knew Abel was sleeping his way to the top.  Not that anyone except Keeler said anything about it to his face, until Ethos hinted about it for most of lunch and Abel finally admitted it.

“He’s a lieutenant, isn’t that against the rules?” Ethos whispered, loud enough for anybody to hear.

Abel shrugged and pushed his food around, worried about it himself, but Keeler had said it was fine, and Keeler would know.  Even if Abel was never sure if Keeler was laughing at him or not, very politely asking how things were with Encke.  “He’s not my commanding officer, and besides, we’re not, you know, doing anything?” Abel said, nervous enough about it that it came out as a question.

“You’re not?”

Abel blushed, glancing across the cafeteria to where Encke sat, blushing harder when Encke looked up and smiled.  “Not—a lot.  Just, you know, kissing so far.”

“Really?  I bet he’s a great kisser,” Ethos sighed, looking over his shoulder at Encke, who’d gone back to his reading, all seriousness in the noisy cafeteria.

Abel came back to it with a rough shove to his shoulder as Cain walked by, a sour smirk on his face that said he’d seen or heard most of it.  “Miss me yet, princess?” he asked, leaning down too close, Deimos standing judgmental behind him.

“Maybe I would if I hadn’t just seen you in the hanger,” Abel said, Ethos cutting off his horrified laugh when Cain shot him a glare.

Cain didn’t have time to answer that, Encke coming to stand just behind him with big arms crossed over his chest.  “Reliant, don’t you have somewhere else to be making trouble?” Encke asked, giving Abel a wink over Cain’s shoulder.  Cain flushed, trying to glare and stand to attention at the same time.

“Yessir—I mean—no sir—“

“Well, which ever it is, if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.  Kitchen said they needed an extra pair of hands, go take your sidekick and scrub some pots.”

Cain stalked away with Deimos in tow, giving Encke’s back a glare that could have burned holes.

Encke glanced at the clock on the wall, giving Abel a regretful look, a little softer with Cain gone, but still tall, intimidating, and so gorgeous as he focused on Abel, making him feel like the only person in the crowded cafeteria.  “See you tonight?” he asked, and Abel managed to nod, his stomach exploding with butterflies when Encke gave him another wink and turned to leave.

“I bet he’s good at more than just kissing,” Ethos sighed, watching Encke go.  Abel flushed to the tips of his ears with every other navigator in the mess staring at him.

* * *

**Cain**

Cain could hear them, Abel’s breathy little moans, practically fucking with him right there.  Abel dragged the asshole back to their room every night, rubbing his nose in it like putting the bunks back on the wall hadn’t been bad enough, he had to listen to them every single fucking night.  And Cain just had to sit there and let it happen, because Abel had decided to fuck an officer.

Not that Cain would have minded, exactly, if they were fucking down there right that second, if Cain was invited, if Encke and him had Abel spread out between them, then the little blond would _really_ be moaning, with Cain’s cock in his mouth and Encke—

“Reliant, what the fuck are you muttering about up there?” Encke snapped, Abel gone quiet.

Cain peered over the the bunk down at them, glaring at Abel, making a point of wiping gun oil on the sheets, since Abel hated that, and Cain hated having to look down and see Abel draped across Encke’s chest getting a backrub, with his tight little ass up in the air just begging to be—anyway, fair was fair, and Abel’s fault anyway.  “Nothing, sir, just going over artillery specs—“

Abel twisted against Encke, looking over his shoulder at Cain with his cheeks flushed, like after they’d fucked.  “Well, do it quieter, or better yet, somewhere else,” Encke snapped, absently rubbing circles on Abel’s back, hand drifting lower, down to Abel’s perfect round ass as Abel turned his face back to Encke’s neck.

Cain grabbed his jacket on his way out the door, hands clenched white on it, holding it discreetly in front of him until he found Deimos and it didn’t matter if he was still hard from thinking about Abel with Encke’s hands on his ass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Abel**

A weekend of shore leave, a whole weekend with no work while the ship was being refueled, and Encke had refused to  say what he’d planned, just telling Abel to pack a bag and not worry about it.  And Keeler all secret smiles, probably in on planning it, too pleased that he’d set the whole thing up, but Abel couldn’t care if it meant a whole weekend with Encke, and finally _alone_ , without Cain to glare or Keeler to make implications.

Abel managed to not drop his bag when he walked in the dark room, but only barely.  “It’s so _big_ ,” he breathed, and blushed at Encke’s little laugh, where Cain would have made a joke.  But Encke just dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and took Abel’s from him, standing behind him warm and solid.  Encke walked them to the window, eight feet of glass solid from one side of the room to the other, the whole sweep of the colony laid out sparkling at their feet.

“How did you—isn’t this expensive?” Abel asked, twisting in Encke’s arms but held there as Encke leaned down to brush his lips against Abel’s ear.

“Officers’ prerogatives,” Encke said.  “Where you wanna go for dinner, baby?  Haven’t seen you in civilian yet, could get changed and go out to—“

Abel cut him off by finally twisting around and pulling Encke down to him, kissing him clumsy at first and better when Encke took the lead, cupping the back of Abel’s head.  Abel twisted his hands in Encke’s jacket, suddenly shaky-kneed and clinging, stumbling against Encke.

Encke walked him back against the window, the glass cold and solid as Encke slipped his hands under the collar of Abel’s uniform and started to undo it, making him shiver.  Abel shivered with Encke’s cool fingers tracing the line of his collarbone, thumb resting in the hollow of his throat.  The pads of his fingers rested on Abel’s pulse, stroking it light, making his heart race faster.  Encke’s chest heaved against him, breathing hard as he caught Abel’s ear and bit, not hard, just the promise of it and followed with the hot line of his mouth down Abel’s throat.

His hands were clumsy until Encke pushed them away, nudging gently as he untucked Abel’s neat uniform and knelt, kissing his belly and hip.  Abel didn’t realized he’d made a noise, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, until Encke looked up at him, delighted and radiant in a way Cain never had been or would be, and he gasped when Encke finally swallowed him, his head falling back against the cold glass and fingers curled against Encke’s scalp.

If Encke was a good kisser, he was even better at this, mouth warm and insistent, teasing with the tip of his tongue.  Subtle and delicate, making Abel beg for it with his breathy moans, shaky leaning there against the cold glass where the whole colony could see up in the sparkling darkness.

And then Abel was being gathered up suddenly, Encke carrying him to the bed and setting him down so gently, like Abel wasn’t already hard and ready to be fucked where ever he was thrown.  But Encke set him down on the high bed, bigger than the rooms back on the ship and almost like being weightless, he sank so far into it, down comforter over a soft mattress, and Encke smiled as he leaned down to kiss again, hands slipping Abel’s jacket all the way off him.

That Encke did throw, somewhere in the dark room like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it, and suddenly Abel had to move, kicking his boots off frantically as Encke’s warm hands slid under his shirt, ghosting over the planes of Abel’s chest, balanced on one knee on the bed and sinking closer until they were kissing.

“Shh, shhh,” Encke murmured as Abel finally toed his socks off, his bare toes curling in the cool air.  Encke put a broad hand on Abel’s leg to still him and broke the kiss to pull Abel’s shirt off him, so slow, kissing across his shoulders and the palms of his hands.  Then moving down the bed to kiss Abel’s belly button, just once before easing Abel’s pants down off his hips, kissing the hot skin of his hip as he threw the last of Abel’s clothes away.  Encke lifted Abel’s knee just briefly, to kiss the soft skin there and stroke his fingers against the back of Abel’s thigh before straightening to finally shrug out of his own jacket.

Abel sat up, scooting forward to the edge of the bed until Encke stood between Abel’s parted legs, silhouetted in the dark against the glittering curve of the window.  He smelled warm, like vanilla and sandalwood, and Abel pressed his nose to Encke’s hip as he pulled his shirt off.  Abel glanced up at him, shivering in the warm room as he smoothed a hand over Encke’s broad chest and down over the curve of his ass as Encke stepped out of his pants.

Encke brushed Abel’s hair out of his face with the back of his hand, looking down with a soft half smile, eyes lidded and just waiting.  Abel pressed a kiss to his hip, suddenly shy and needing to hide his blush even if it was against Encke’s bare thigh as Abel slowly moved to stroke his cock.  But Encke brushed his hand away, leaning down to press his mouth to Abel’s and steal his breath away, hooking an arm under Abel’s knee to haul him back up the bed and follow.

Abel threw an arm around his neck, torn between greedy and shy but wanting regardless for Encke to cover him, press him into the mattress, wrap him in strong arms and warm sheets.  Encke pulled Abel to him until they were lying on their sides, though, nose to nose, or would have been, if Encke weren’t so much taller, Abel’s nose pressed to Encke’s chest.

“How do you—“ Abel started, cut off as Encke ducked his head against the pillow to kiss again, an awkward angle for him so much taller but making it so Abel only had to tip his head up a little, nothing like Cain wrenching his head back by the hair.  Abel pushed that thought away, and the thought that followed, wondering where Cain was and who with, and concentrated on the thought after that, that maybe if Encke pulled him back by the hair it would be even better than it had been with Cain.  Might be as good as this was, Encke’s lips exploring his mouth softly, hand wandering to cup his ass and pull them together.

And then Abel found out why they were face-to-face but not nose-to-nose, Encke reaching to stroke Abel’s hard cock between them and then bring it between his own legs, like fucking, but facing with their feet tangled together, Encke holding them close and his thighs warm around Abel’s cock.  Encke hummed into Abel’s hair, stroking his back and rocking them together with one broad arm wrapped over Abel, holding him tight in the circle of Encke’s arms.

Abel slipped a hand between them, the head of Encke’s cock hot and round in his palm, pressed tight between them and Abel shuddered wondering what it would be like if he begged Encke to bend him over the side of the bed, rough and fast.  He pressed his mouth to Encke’s chest, kissing the warm salt of his skin and so close when Encke hissed and shivered as Abel’s teeth grazed his skin.  Abel’s breath caught, nose pressed hard to Encke’s chest, and he twisted just a little, squeezing the tip of Encke’s cock and catching his nipple between his teeth, coming hard and sudden when Encke hissed and brought his hand down across Abel’s ass with a sharp crack.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Encke breathed, rolling them over as Abel shuddered against him, sprawled across Encke’s chest and weak as Encke rubbed the hot mark he’d made across Abel’s skin.  “You liked that, baby?” he asked, hands trailing up and down the backs of Abel’s thighs, fingertips teasing as Abel nodded weakly against his chest.  “Good,” Encke laughed, pulling Abel up to straddle him and kiss, cupping his face with one hand and reaching for something with the other, and Abel arched his back when Encke’s cold, slicked fingers finally pressed slowly into him.

“Slow, slow,” Encke murmured as Abel nudged him away, pulling back to reach between them and grip Encke’s cock.  “Oh fuck,” Encke panted as Abel took him deep, biting his lip to keep from smiling at the way Encke threw his head back against the pillow.  “You’re not very patient, are you baby?” he breathed.  He was warm and hard and perfect, and Abel could feel every inch of him pulsing as Encke rolled his hips up and curled his toes against the mattress.

“Do it again,” Abel said, a little bolder now with Encke’s blunt fingers digging into his thighs and Abel’s hands flat across Encke’s chest.

Encke opened his eyes at that, smirking just a little as he sat up, pulling Abel’s legs around his waist.  “What was that, sweetheart?” he breathed into Abel’s neck, nipping a little teasing bite here, drawing a warm line with his mouth to Abel’s ear.

“Spank me,” Abel demanded, hands on Encke’s broad shoulders and breathless with rocking against him faster.

Encke hummed a laugh into Abel’s neck, lifting him in rhythm, squeezing Abel’s ass tight around him, sucking a dark mark over his collarbone.  “Who’s giving the orders now, hmm?” Encke asked, leaning back with one hand on the mattress behind him to watch Abel scowl at him and strain to kiss him.

“I am,” Abel said, leaning forward until Encke almost slipped all the way out of him, then back down, making them both take sharp breaths.  “So spank me,” Abel said, startling when Encke did, harder than he’d expected, the sound sharp in the dark room and he’d have frozen if both Encke’s hands weren’t back on his ass, urging him faster until there was another sharp crack and Abel did freeze, back going stiff as Encke dragged him down to kiss as Abel moaned against his warm mouth.

“That good, baby?” Encke asked, threading fingers through Abel’s hair, tugging just a little and leaning in to bite Abel’s ear when he nodded.  “You like it a little rough?” he asked, and there was another sharp crack before Abel finished nodding, skin burning under Encke’s hand on his ass.  “You gonna be sore tomorrow, darling,” Encke said, and slapped him again before taking Abel’s ass in both hands and fucking him rough, mouth on his shoulder and moaning as he came, thick and hot, Abel’s thighs tightening around him as Encke pulsed in him, rocking to stillness wrapped around each other.

“Damn you’re a good fuck,” Encke breathed into his neck, arms still tight around Abel, holding him close.  Abel just hummed in answer, boneless and sleepy, pleasantly sore.  “Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart,” Encke murmured, kissing Abel’s ear.  “Still haven’t had dinner.  And we’ll see if you can stay awake for your surprise tonight or if we save it for tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn’t get away from them, not on the ship, and now not on leave, Abel rubbing his fucking face in it out prancing around with the lieutenant.

Cain grabbed Deimos by the elbow, shoving him into the nearest bar so he wouldn’t have to look at Abel and how fucking happy he was.  A dive, but what bars in this fucking place weren’t dives, and better like that anyway.  Since Abel and his new fuck were probably headed somewhere nice, somewhere fancy, somewhere officers’ pay could take Abel that Cain never would.  Why bother anyway, Deimos didn’t need a fancy date to get him into bed, just a hotel room clean enough to not pick up stowaways when they went back to ship, close enough to the bars to walk back.  

Abel wasn’t any better than Deimos, both of them hot to get fucked with barely a glance, or always had been before Abel decided he was going to be _professional_ and fuck officers to get ahead.

Deimos ordered for them, Cain too busy glaring at the door to think about it.  Whiskey neat, like they used to take it in basic, when the bar near the base didn’t serve anything else besides warm flat beer.  Faster to get drunk off whiskey anyway, and what the fuck other reason were they there for.  Faster to try to forget about Abel getting fucked in the bathroom of some fancy restaurant anyway.

Cain shoved them away from the bar to grab a booth in the back, Deimos following dutifully, especially when his snot-nosed navigator peeked in the door and quickly left, that big idiot following.  It was a good night for a fist fight, if they’d made the mistake of staying, but Cain would just have to find some other asshole to pick a fight with.  

Deimos saw them before Cain did, finally drunk enough to relax and watch the game instead of glaring at the door, and then Abel and the lieutenant had to fucking ruin it, sauntering up to the bar with Abel flushed and looking like he did right after Cain fucked him in the middle of the day, pink-cheeked and looking pleased that he’d gotten away with something, when everybody could tell he’d just gotten a hard fuck.  Cain grimaced and slammed back the rest of his whiskey, waving at Deimos to go get another round.

Abel made eyes across the bar, glancing away and blushing when Cain caught him looking, sending the traitorous little blond to press tighter against the lieutenant’s side.  Abel sipped his gin and tonic, throwing glances over his shoulder with the lieutenant’s arm tight around his waist.  Pretty as ever, prettier in civilian clothes, a neat dark button-up with the sleeves rolled up and tight jeans, could have been any businessman out slumming, some accountant out picking up colonial girls, except for all the dark little hickies peeking out above his collar and Encke’s big dark arm over his shoulders, right where Cain should have been, planning out where else to give Abel hickies that night.

The lieutenant didn’t look like such a hardass out of uniform, Cain could probably take him no problem.  Just walk up and punch him in the jaw, get his hand off Abel’s ass and then stay out of his reach, big assholes like that went for strength and not speed.

Never mind that the lieutenant had already decked him once on ship, but that was hardly fair, since Cain hadn’t seen him coming.  He’d just be returning the favor, really.  

Deimos put a hand on his arm before he even moved to stand up, giving him the look over their drinks.  Cain shook him off and stood anyway, because he didn’t need Deimos to tell him what to do.  But he went to the john instead of walking up and grabbing Abel away, because he didn’t need to prove Deimos right or end up in the drunk tank for the rest of his shore leave.

Even if it would have been worth it to see the look on Abel’s face, a little shocked and a little turned on, since he liked it a little rough, liked it when Cain got a little mean.  A lot would be worth it to see that look on Abel’s face again.

The door shoved open just as Cain was pulling it open, Abel practically tumbling into him, recovering just enough to pretend he hadn’t almost fallen into Cain’s arms like the first night.  The little blond glared and closed the door behind him, just the two of them in the little bathroom.

“What are you doing here?” Abel demanded, standing against the closed door with his arms crossed.

“What am _I_ doing here?” Cain laughed.  “What the fuck are _you_ doing here?  I was just having a fucking drink and you and your new fuck followed us in.  How about you mind your own goddamn business, Abel, and fuck off somewhere else?”

He didn’t mean to get that close, didn’t mean to put a hand next do Abel’s head and press him against the door, didn’t mean to—  “Me?” Abel demanded, pushing Cain back a little, but not much.  “You and your—your— _friend_ —have been following us since we left the hotel, don’t think I didn’t notice—“

“You smell different.”

“—What?”

“You smell different.  Did he fuck you?”

“None of your—“ 

Cain kissed him.  Better that than hear whether or not someone else had finally done it, pressed Abel into the sheets and spread him open, make him moan like Cain had, make him arch his back and push his sweet round ass back like Cain had—

It must have been Abel that moaned, because Cain would never have, even if he had one of Abel’s hands fisted in his hair and the other rubbing him hard through the front of his jeans, pushing them away from the door to the marginal privacy of the single stall.

Abel pressed against him, hard and a little desperate, just the way Cain liked him.  Abel had never needed seducing, not the first time, not ever.

The door banged opened and Abel startled back, Cain barely keeping hold of him by the front of his shirt as he turned to snarl at the dead man in the door, ready to punch the lieutenant’s teeth in if he’d come to defend Abel’s honor.

But it was only Deimos.

Abel made a little squeak and hurried past Deimos where he stood disapproving in the door, the two of them ruining Cain’s fucking night as Abel’s shirt slipped out of his fingers.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Cain snapped at Deimos’ blank look, the one he got when he disapproved and wasn’t going to say anything, because the little shit never said anything.  “He was all over me, like you would have said no either.”  Deimos shrugged, glancing down with a little raise of an eyebrow.

Cain flushed.  “Lock the fucking door and get over here, then,” he snapped.

If Abel was desperate and a little sloppy, Deimos was deliberate, barely restrained, keeping himself from being just as desperate as Abel.  Cain blew him slow, making him wait for it, Deimos desperate to get fucked even though Cain had shoved him into the shower as soon as they got to the hotel, fucked all his frustrations over Abel into Deimos and the wall.  Could have been blowing Abel, except they smelled different when Cain bit Deimos’ thigh, except that Abel never combed his fingers through Cain’s hair so tentatively, except that Deimos didn’t make any of Abel’s little sighs and shudders and moans when Cain moaned around him, coming as he stroked himself and swallowed, Deimos breathing sharp but not making a single goddamn sound.

And Abel and the lieutenant were _still_ there when they left the bathroom, didn’t have the common decency to fuck off and find somewhere else to drink, when Abel didn’t have the courtesy to follow through on his teasing and just fuck in the bathroom.  The little traitor was probably waiting for another chance, and Cain made sure he knew he wasn’t going to get another one by hooking his arm over Deimos’ shoulders and steering them to the bar for another drink.

Encke and Abel eyed them up, Abel obviously drunker than ever, trying to make like he hadn’t just tried fucking someone else twenty minutes ago.

“You need to get all your girlfriends that drunk?  _Sir_?” Cain sneered, drunk enough himself that it seemed like a good idea.  “I never needed liquor to get any navigator’s pants off.”

“Sure helps you get out of your pants, though,” Encke laughed, barely acknowledging the insult.  “What, you think I didn’t remember you, Reliant?” Encke said, arm draped over Abel’s shoulders and glaring down Cain where he leaned against the bar, Deimos behind him.  “I wasn’t that drunk, and I know you weren’t.  Might’ve only been once, but I remember everybody who grabs my ass.”

“You’ve been together?” Abel asked, swaying against Encke just a little, blushing as he glanced between them.

“It was only once,” Cain snapped, not missing Deimos’ appraising look.

Encke shrugged.  “You want to make it twice, Reliant?”

Cain flushed to the tips of his ears, especially with the way both Deimos and Abel perked up at it, way too interested for Cain’s liking.  And someone’s hand was on his ass, not Encke’s, but Deimos’ or Abels’, one of them slipping a hand in his pocket, a little suggestion.

“It would be fun,” Abel said, breathless, cheeks flushed and more than a little drunk, and that sealed the deal, didn’t matter whose hand was on his ass.

“We’re in,” Cain said finally, hand tightening on Deimos’ elbow, because if he had to watch Abel get fucked by Encke, he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit in a corner by himself, even if Deimos looked more pleased than he had any right to be.

The lieutenant just smiled broadly, finishing his beer and ducking to give Abel a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Come on boys, let’s pay up your tab and get out of here.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain and Encke's "one time," set a couple years before the first chapter.

“Looks like your friend’s having a good night,” someone said at Sacha’s elbow.  He looked away from where Aleks was getting felt up by some tall long-haired navigator, more fucking upright than they were dancing.  Sacha tore his eyes away from that, Aleks pressing his ass back and tilting his head for a sloppy kiss, and Sacha glanced up and up at the strange fighter leaning on the bar next to him.

Dark skin, light eyes, half familiar from somewhere.  New team on one of the other squads, probably.  “He’s got good taste,” Sacha shrugged, turning back to watch Aleks.  He wouldn’t have half minded being in the middle of that, or better, the navigator between them back at the hotel, but he was mellow and sleepy enough with the beer that just watching was fine for the moment.  Tall and skinny, the navigator looked flexible, small enough for Sacha to grab his ass with both hands, but strong enough to get yanked around by that long braid and like it.

“Yeah he does,” the fighter said, taking a drink of his beer, looking like he was thinking the same thing.  “But only if he doesn’t expect it to go anywhere back on ship.”

Sacha glanced between them, placing the pair of them finally, Encke and Keeler, new on station but word was that they were on the fast track for promotion.  “That your navigator?  Heard he was straight,” Sacha said, finishing his beer.  Sure didn’t look it, the navigator’s braid falling over Aleks’ shoulder as he leaned down to bite his ear, hands in Aleks’ front pockets and likely to go further.  Long, sure hands, navigators usually knew what they were doing.

Encke laughed.  “Only when he’s sober.  Buy you another beer?”

Sacha looked him up and down, wondering what else he was asking about.  Finally shrugged and let Encke buy him a beer, since Aleks was already leaving with the navigator, and Sacha wouldn’t be getting it from anywhere else that night anyway.  Might as well do something his last night of leave, if Aleks was going to put out for someone else instead.

Encke ordered up two more bottles, didn’t seem to mind when Sacha brushed the back of his thigh, even though Encke was almost a full head taller, so Sacha pressed his luck and slipped his hand into Encke’s back pocket standing there at the bar.  Didn’t move when Encke glanced down at him with a half smile and threw an arm over his shoulder.

“You and your friend split a room?” Encke asked after a couple drinks, absently stroking his fingertips over the curve of Sacha’s shoulder.  

Sacha smirked, guessing where this was going. “You split a room with your navigator?”

“They’re probably back there by now,” Encke shrugged.  “Think your friend’ll stay the night?”

“Usually does.  You need a place to crash?” Sacha asked, deciding to go for it, since Encke didn’t seem to mind when Sacha squeezed his ass.  Nice ass, too, even if they didn’t end up fucking, it didn’t hurt to look.

“‘M not looking for any strings once we get back to ship, sweetheart,” Encke said quietly, maybe a little apologetically.

Sacha shrugged.  “Far as I’m concerned, nothing ever happened.”

“Yeah?” Encke said with a sad sort of half smile, ducking to kiss Sacha’s ear.  “Well, you want to make it a good nothing and get out of here?”

* * *

 

Sacha slammed him up against the door of the hotel room as soon as it was closed, almost a full head taller and half again as heavy, but Sacha was faster and knew how to throw his center of gravity.  They’d walked over with Encke’s arm still over his shoulders, leaning down to murmur right against Sacha’s ear and neck, too sweet, too romantic, like it was a date and not a quick anonymous fuck.  

With the door closed, Sacha hauled Encke down to his level, biting his lip and getting bitten just as sharp in return.  Encke laughed and pushed him back, almost gently, too gently, twisting his hands in Sacha’s hair and shirt to keep him in place and kiss his neck, warm and smooth and slow, leaning back against the door and making Sacha grind against his thigh to get closer.

“Don’t you know how to do anything else with that tongue besides kiss?” Sacha growled the second time Encke tried to slow them down, kissing slow and lazy like he didn’t have any other fucking plans for the night, when the only plans Sacha had was fucking.

“Maybe,” Encke said, leaning away again and smiling sleepily.  “Don’t you know how to be patient?”

“No,” Sacha snapped, and spun them around to shove Encke down on the single bed.  Aleks’ idea, not that there had been anyone in it but Sacha all weekend with Aleks catting around after long haired navigators, but that didn’t keep them from tripping over Aleks’ duffel, falling all over each other in a tangle with Sacha landing on top.

Encke just chuckled at that, giddy drunk, and peeled Sacha’s shirt off him, taking his goddamn time to run his hands up over Sacha’s shoulders and down his back, warm and a little rough with callouses, and he shuddered a little when Sacha yanked him up to pull Encke’s shirt off him too.  

Too many goddamn muscles, hard and lean, nothing like fucking navigators or Aleks, but that was part of the attraction, shoving around someone built like a steel wall and seeing how far he could push.  When Encke still just tried to kiss lazily with Sacha lying against his bare chest, slowly stroking his back and shoulder like it was a goddamn Sunday morning before church, Sacha pinned Encke’s hands over his head and fumbled with the button of his pants, impatient.

Encke let him, stroking himself slowly once he was naked and spread out on the bed, hard and gorgeous, watching Sacha strip the rest of the way and then fumble through Aleks’ duffel for the lube.  He spread his legs and pulled Sacha back to him, kissing the bony ridge of Sacha’s collarbone as he slicked himself, legs tangling as he tried to shift to straddle Encke, until Encke took the lube from him and slicked Sacha’s cock with it.

“You want— _fuck_ ,” Sacha sighed as Encke stroked his cock and pulled him down.

“Not like this ever happened anyway, baby,” Encke murmured, sighing as Sacha pushed into him, flexing his hands on Sacha’s ass and almost making him wish they were doing this the other way around.  Cut off Sacha’s displeased hiss with a kiss when he pulled Sacha all the way into him and slid fingers over Sacha’s lubed ass, teasing with it as Sacha rocked into him.  Not so bad with the kissing, and the slow, deep strokes, Encke lying on his back but controlling the pace with his hands on Sacha’s ass, teasing with the tips of his fingers with the promise of a good slow fuck.

He’d have been a good fuck the other way, slow and hard and inevitable, like being fucked by a tidal wave, but this was like being pulled down into the undertow, slow and barely there at first, but pulling him deeper and so hard he wasn’t sure he wanted to come up for air.  One of Encke’s blunt fingers pressed into him, slow and rocking with the rhythm Encke drove them at, and Sacha growled into Encke’s neck to hide how hot his face was getting, flushed and spreading heat down his chest and back to where Encke’s cock rubbed between them.

“Thought you didn’t want to cuddle, sweetheart,” Encke laughed, not unkindly, nose against Sacha’s ear as Sacha bit his neck in warning.  Got a slap on the ass for that, short and sharp.  “Thought you just wanted it hard and—“ Encke’s breath caught as Sacha fucked him a little harder, changing the angle to snap his hips against him, braced with one hand on Encke’s shoulder “—and fast,” Encke finished, and it was Sacha’s turn for his breath to catch, Encke pushing a second finger into him and letting him fuck himself harder as he fucked Encke, caught throbbing and so close between Encke’s hands and his body.  Sacha mouthed the warm veins of his neck, salty and tasting like beer, solid where Sacha’s hand curled against his chest.

Sacha came with a snarled curse against Encke’s neck, back arching as Encke pushed his fingers deeper, rocking, pulling Sacha into him and fucking him at the same time, kissing his shoulder slowly.  Sacha curled into him bonelessly as Encke tugged him up to kiss, finishing himself slowly, stroking himself until he came between them with Sacha still in him, tightening around his sensitive, throbbing cock as he came down from it.

Encke pushed him over finally, wrapping tight against Sacha’s back, spooning and kissing his shoulder slowly.  Making promises with his hands and his mouth, of what next time would be like.

* * *

 

Sacha woke up to Encke moving quietly around the room, getting dressed in the half light of false dawn, making coffee and not looking like was trying to sneak out.  Just smiled over his shoulder and brought a cup over to the night stand when he saw Sacha was up.

“You got time for another round?” Sacha asked sleepily, lazy and sore.

Encke gave him a little half smile, putting one knee on the bed to lean down and kiss.  Put a hand behind Sacha’s head as he sat up, tugging his hair just a little, making his scalp tingle from the heat of the kiss or the soreness of last night.  “Gotta make sure my navigator left your friend in one piece,” Encke said when he pulled back.  “Maybe some other time.  See you around, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, some other time,” Sacha said, rolling over as Encke let himself out.  Waited until Deimos was back looking sore and stupidly pleased to take a shower together, hard when he made Deimos tell him how the navigator had been and even harder thinking about some other time that wouldn’t ever happen.


End file.
